On the second day of January of the year 2003, I was having trouble sleeping.

The night before was filled with rails of Modafinil, Flexeril, and Vicodin, ounces and ounces of liquid vicodin, and hydroponically grown Cannabis. Simply put, my brain was fried. In total honesty, I probably would have slept fine, but I felt as though I needed to 'be on something' after all the fun of the preceeding day; nothing was available so I ingested some herbals. I took the Ginkgo about 15 minutes before I ingested the 'pill train' of Kava Kava and Valerian Root (one KK, two VR, etc). Total time of ingetion took less than a minute.

Perhaps my mindset from the beginning wasn't proper to be having an 'experience,' but I've experimented heavily with Kava Kava, Valerian, Ginkgo and other supplements for sleep aid (partly in search of chemically inspired vivid dreams). I had some terribly salty Hickory Farms treats while reading the Church of Euthanasia's article about 'Butchering the Human Carcass for Consumption,' after which I sat in front of a shiny new strobe light until I felt the familiar feelings of lethargy set in. Unhealthy food, visions of evisceration, and flashing. Nothing positive went near my body before I went to sleep, and I paid for it.

Perhaps this isn't a 'trip' report, but I feel that the substances had a definite effect upon what came to me in sleep. I am what one would call a 'disturbed' individual. Not a single dream can I EVER recall in which there wasn't the object or threat of voilence and/or death. Blame violent media, I guess.

The standard type of nightmares came about--pistol whippings by a 9 foot tall psychotic bum--and the always accompanying religious imagery--hunting Angels in great Obelisks and catacombs, but that night I was struck by visions of a more striking magnitude:

'Welcome to the Black Church. Prepare for Death.'

Those words still make my skin crawl to hear. In sleep I found myself in what I can only describe as 'a multichurch.' Inside of a great granite building seemingly carved from a single slab, I stood in an grand foyer which branched off into six congregation halls, all carpeted in blood red and filled with large gothic columns, flashing brilliantly as if from lightning flashes. Each hall had different definition of suffering or pain described in it--but I can only remember two of them. I was led by one or two floating humanoids who were totally engulfed in black robes--somehow translucent in the lightning flashes) past the hall (if only I could remember all of them!) one of which had statues of horror movie characters all flashing terribly. I gave a passing glance in this hall and felt my stomach twist, but kept following. I was taken into the second to last hall, which was completely darkened except for the lightning flashes--which were much less frequent here. I walked in and was inundated with what I describe as 'the horror of confusion.' The walls were covered with paintings of no possible earthly origin--black and white murals overcame me with their complexity. The complexity of the how the elements were interworked--and oh god how they changed with every flash of light. It was as if the walls were alive. I fell to my knees and (one of?) the hooded figure(s) turned around, stared me in the face and summarized the pictoral message on the walls in two sentances.

'Welcome to the Black Church. Prepare for Death.'

I woke up a mess--it took my girlfriend 10 minutes to convince me that I wasn't dying.

Moral of the Story: The unexpected WILL happen one day, and be aware of your environment. Always.

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